


A Game At Dinner (Supper, Breakfast and Dessert)

by Filigranka



Category: Elder Scrolls III: Morrowind
Genre: Dialogue Heavy, Gen, Politics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-21
Updated: 2017-02-21
Packaged: 2018-09-21 17:01:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,189
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9558575
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Filigranka/pseuds/Filigranka
Summary: Ficlets set in vicious world of Vvardenfell's world of politics.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Talimee](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Talimee/gifts).
  * Translation into Polski available: [Gra przy kolacji (śniadaniu, podwieczorku i deserze)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/10572801) by [Filigranka](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Filigranka/pseuds/Filigranka)



> Thanks, B., for beta!

‘I hear your daughter is unwell,’ drawled Helseth. ‘I’m sorry.’

Vedam Dren sent him a sad, trained smile.

‘She takes after her late mother, unfortunately. She gets sick easily.’ He was probably wondering what was the point of that inquiry.

There was no point. Helseth knew that young Ilmeni was feeling well, her constitution anything but fragile—how else could she spend so much time in the slums of Vivec?—but the weapon of knowledge need not be aimed at Vedam, not now, not yet. The whole conversation was just a game, something to pass the time, to remind himself of the sweet, treacherous times in Wayrest.

And a friendly reminded that the King had his own spies.

So, Helseth waited for Vedam to raise his cup—to cover the anxiousness, he presumed—and then sighed, voice soft like the wind over the Ascadian Isles: 'One should pay more attention to details like that, especially when one is in the middle of an argument with one’s sibling. Being of fragile condition might sound innocent, but how could you know no one is, in fact, slowly poisoning her?’

The King felt a surge of predictable satisfaction upon seeing the sudden tensing of Vedam’s shoulders, the instinctive thinning of the mouth, throat almost unnoticeably choking on the wine. Advantages of having a certain reputation.

‘Please,’ added Helseth, seemingly as an afterthought, ‘give my regards to your daughter. I hope to meet her soon. The well-being of the allies of Morrowind is always on my mind.’

Vedam breathed, a little more deeply than just a moment ago.

‘‘It’ll be a honour, Your Majesty.’

Helseth smiled, an easy, smooth smile.

‘Your honour, my pleasure.’


	2. Chapter 2

‘Your father,’ commented the king, smiling pleasantly, ‘is a masterful diplomat. I’m sure I’m never going to possess even half of his diplomatic skills.’

‘That’s high praise in the mouth of such a great politician,’ answered Ilmeni, already feeling a little nauseous.

She hated it all. Hated the balls, the palaces, the silver wares and gold spoons, the dresses worth more than a worker’s year pay—and certainly more than the life of a _slave_. Or a whole family of slaves.

And then, in the middle of all that, Helseth asked her for a dance. She couldn’t refuse him. She hated dancing, too, but she couldn’t have avoided meeting with His Majesty forever.

‘Me and my dear step-sister tried to kill each other, too, so it’s not like I don’t have some... understanding of your familial situation,’ continued the king, more quietly; his voice was that of innocents musing and that, even more than his words, made Ilmeni shiver internally. ‘But still, I’d never turn a blind eye on activities such as yours or your dear uncle’s... I’d rather fight back, plotting and scheming, till they bow down before me—‘

‘Or you end up in exile.’ Ilmeni smiled, too.

It was a very dangerous move. But whatever game Helseth was playing, it was deadly dangerous already. And he probably hadn’t expected a retort, especially not a rude one.

Emotion of some sort—excitement? anger? amusement?—flickered in his eyes, in his face lines. Then it became the pleasant nothingness again.

‘Exactly. I prefer to get a clear outcome. Either winning or losing, proving my point or getting killed trying. Like I said, fighting. To let things pass me by, seeing the world changing and not picking sides, letting my sibling attempt to murder me a thousand times and just smile peacefully, letting my daughter become a radical activist and neither punishing nor supporting her... Looking at everything with a gentle smile on my lips... That’s truly the purest diplomatic trait. A trait I don’t possess. I should probably be a little jealous of my dear friend, Vedam.’

Ilmeni couldn’t have felt colder if somebody had casted a freezing spell upon her. She shouldn’t have read that damned propaganda book, she thought to herself, mirthlessly, no matter what Jobasha had said.

‘I’m not a diplomat, either,’ she admitted flatly. ‘There’s no reason to play games with me—I’m not a skilled player. Your Majesty will find me very boring.’

‘No, it’s the opposite. I find anyone who isn’t trying to outsmart me in court games pleasantly refreshing. Maybe that’s why I made a mistake with Karrod... You’ve heard about it, I presume?’

Her mouth felt drier than the Ashlands. Karrod had died not so long ago, officially because of the illness. Unofficially—because the Nerevarine had unconsciously suggested the king that his faithful bodyguard had, in fact, been a spy. And it wasn’t hard to poison a warrior.

The Nerevarine was gone, now, sailing for Akavir. Nobody to confirm the tale.

‘I heard his death saddened you deeply, my lord.’

He almost laughed.

‘Oh, and yet you’re trying to play games with me. You’re mistaken if you think that’s what our royal person is expecting. Our royal person is just terribly bored at this ball.’ The gesture in which he took the whole room was theatrically nonchalant.

‘I heard you ordered his death, also. But those do not contradict each other. You ordered it,’ she did her best to sound ironical, to seem brave, ‘with sadness.’

That time he sincerely laugh. It was a terribly hollow, bitter laughter.

‘That’s quite a diplomatic answer! Your father might feel like that in such... literary... circumstances. But I’m not him and I’m rarely sad.’

‘What could my lord need from my father’s daughter, then?’

‘What our royal person might need, indeed... Truth, perhaps. Life at court isn’t as... straightforward, harsh and bold as in the lower quarters of Vivec.’

‘I need questions to give you the answers, Your Majesty. And I grew tired of the dance.’

‘Ah, for I’ve held you for a couple of dances already... How rude. I shall leave you to your other suitors, my lady.’ He scanned the room, his eyes briefly locking with the those of Orvas and Ravani.

Ilmeni’s heart sank. She could tell herself, quite acutely, that’s probably just another game of the bored king, not even a real threat, just a habit. Her father was safe. Twin Lamps were safe. She was safe.

And yet—

‘Your Majesty.’ Her fingers tightened on the sleeve of his robe. He focused his gaze on her for a few seconds, intently. She tried very hard no to think about what said intent might be.

‘Is Twin Lamps’—your—cause really the most important thing in your life?’

At that point she wasn’t even truly surprised at his bluntness. She answered simply: ‘Yes.’

‘And do you think your father will... would... ever support this cause in any meaningful way?’

She thought about Vedam’s indulgence towards Orvas and Cammona Tong. About his constant navigating between demands of all House Hlaalu prominent members. About that always gentle, always indifferent smile, ruthless in its glass-like politeness.

‘No.’ Her voice was barely a whisper; not so much because of fear as for a sudden disappointing realisation. ‘He won’t... I do not think he would.’

‘And,’ Helseth concluded, escorting her to her aunt and cousins, ‘as long as you’ll remember that, all shall be well.’


End file.
